Day 2: Thursday 28th February

It's nice to be on the receiving end of so much attention, but really, all I want to do is find a comfortable position to lie, without vomiting, without tangling up the drip lines, so that I can get some sleep. 

Blood pressure and temperature checks, the usual gamut of slamming doors, screeching dementia patients and some friendly nurses hiding from matron, all add up to some mild entertainment, but when all a person wants is sleep, it can get a little wearing. 

3-hourly checks all night. Vomit not passing at all. Cannot even keep a sip of water in the right place.

Sore canula site again, so the powers that be have disconnected my rehydration line. 'Be right back' was the merry call.

Pressing the panic button is becoming a habit today. It has now been 6 hours since I was disconnected from my drip, my mouth feels like it is full of weeds, and the vomiting is still happening. Nothing I can do to stop it. It is horrible.

Pressing the panic button is now becoming a half-hourly habit. 'Please could somebody reconnect me, as I think I may be getting a little dried out'.

3am - 12 hours after my disconnection, I am finally reconnected to the drip, and surprise surprise, my veins are collapsing as I am totally dehydrated.

Ow. One of 4 different needle bruises. Good job I have 2 arms innit?!

Did I mention the vomit?